phantom
by hollowbastions
Summary: figments of the imagination aren't always what they seem. Madoka-centric.


**phantom  
hollowbastions  
**_sometimes she swears she can feel the handle in her grip, the muscles in her arm tensing as she pulls the string back, the nook of the arrow against one of her knuckles._

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Madoka Kaname has never been athletic. It wasn't that she couldn't be if she _wanted_ too (although she suspects that she'd have difficulty anyway, sometimes she thinks she's better at rolling her ankle than breathing) the idea just never appealed to her. Sayaka always liked running and leaping and darting through the fields and streets, her laughter roaring through the air. Madoka and Hitomi preferred the sidelines – it's always been that way.

When Madoka first meets Kyuubey she does not contract right away. It wasn't that she couldn't if she wanted too (although she suspects that she'd have trouble anyway, leaving in the early hours of the morning and the late hours of the night to fight unseen darkness her mother and father don't understand) she just couldn't think of anything worth wishing for – and isn't that a good thing? Belly full of food, a group of friends, a family to call her own and a roof over her head. It's more than some people can say, as much as a prosperous town as Mitakihara likes to pretend otherwise.

Another part of her wants it, wants to feel the power to _save_ someone coursing through her, the ability to actually _do something. _She wonders what it must be like, to have all that at your finger tips while she breezes through everything in her life, not really affecting anyone or anything. Every time she thinks about it, Homura appears out of nowhere and puts a clean cut end to it, leaving no room for arguments (it's hard to argue with her when she empties a round of bullets into Kyuubey – no, _incubator_) It always the strangest sensation when she's stopped by Homura, a part of her always wants to reflexively say 'thank you', but doesn't have the slightest idea why.

Of course Sayaka darts right ahead, soaring through the air; sword in hand and a gilded cape billowed out behind her like a pair of wings. It didn't matter how fast Sayaka could run in the end, not much of anything mattered and for the split second before the grief set in Madoka wondered if maybe she should have actually said that thank you.

* * *

The first time Madoka Kaname sees a bow is when she is eight years old. It was such a beautiful thing, painted gold with engraved roses along it's body, shimmering vines coiled around the handle. Years after she still remembers it, sometimes pulling the pose in the mirror – the one with feet apart, body diagonal to the target, arm straight and unwavering, the other bent back. sometimes she swears she can feel the handle in her grip, the muscles in her arm tensing as she pulls the string, the nook of the arrow against one of her knuckles, hitched breath and eyes darting don'tlosesightofthetargetoritsoverremembermami (_Mami?) _and finally the exhale as she lets go of the arrow and it flies through the air, a pink smoky glow following it. Sometimes Madoka also wonders when her imagination got so vivid and detailed.

The last time Madoka Kaname sees a bow in her hand she's standing before Walpurgis, thunder crashing around her, the ground shaking beneath her feet, or is it just her legs? Her bow is beautiful, just like the one all those years ago, maybe even more so with leaves sprouting along it and a rose in full bloom at the top. She shoots an arrow, watching the pink glow one more time before the world fades back and the piercing cry of Homura Akemi rips through what's left of her soul.

In the next timeline there's archery lessons in phys ed and Homura snatches a bow before Madoka can pick it up and walks off in a display that leaves Madoka and the rest of the class bewildered.

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**phan·tom** _noun_  
2. A figment of the imagination  
oh if only

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a/n: I don't know what I'm doing I just wanted to write something madoka magica related while bringing up the whole past-timeline memories thing. Thank you for reading!


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